


Three Thousand, Five Hundred Seven and Two Tenths Pounds

by shamebucket



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: Body Horror, Glitches treated seriously, M/M, Puppy Love, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23885977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamebucket/pseuds/shamebucket
Summary: Green feels like he's done this before.
Relationships: Ookido Green | Blue Oak/Red
Comments: 13
Kudos: 70
Collections: Minigame: Round 1





	Three Thousand, Five Hundred Seven and Two Tenths Pounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moon_Blitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Blitz/gifts).



Green sits idly on the floor by the edge of the arena, legs stretched out in front of him. If he's honest with himself, being Champion is a lot more boring than he thought it would be. But this is what Champions do: wait for others to challenge them until they are finally usurped. How long has it been since he last had a battle? It feels like forever. 

\- He runs cold. No. Nobody has ever battled him, right? He only beat Lance a short time ago. He checks his watch. Sweating, he nods. Yeah. It can't have been longer than an hour? But this is still what he needs to do, and he still needs to wait. 

(He wishes that his watch had a date function on it. It feels _so much longer_ than an hour.) 

The sound of Dragonite using Hyper Beam resounds with a tinny clink in the other room. He rests his elbow on his thigh, then his cheek on his palm. Do people get to Lance that quickly, that often? Jeez. What pushovers. Green did his best to capture and train Pokemon to his exact specifications, sending Pokemon that were too weak for battle to his gramps, so maybe the others weren't as fastidious as him. Green frowns. Why does a 11 year old kid have more attention to detail than full grown adults? 

Green hears the door click open, and he jolts up in surprise. Immediately, he takes his spot in the middle of the room. A grin appears across his face, both a challenge and an invitation. 

"Hey! I was looking forward to seeing you, Red! My rival should be strong to keep me sharp!"

Red doesn't say anything; this isn't anything new. Ever since they were little kids, Red hasn't said much. Green takes it in stride. It's not like Red can't communicate in other ways. Red has a way of making his feelings clear through battle, through a glint in his eyes, through the way he holds himself. He also understands and trusts his Pokemon in a way that Green can't fathom. It's like the guy knows all of their secrets. Green isn't one to admit it out loud, but he also thinks that Red's straightforwardness, only responding with "Yes" or "No" to very few questions, makes him kind of cool. 

"While working on the Pokedex, I looked all over for powerful Pokemon. Not only that, I assembled teams that would beat any Pokemon type! And now! I'm the Pokemon League Champion!" Green smirks, spreading his arms. "Red! Do you know what that means?" 

Red remains silent. Green is about to continue, but then he catches how Red's eyes are shining in the light underneath his baseball cap. Something turns in his stomach. Red has never looked at him like this before. Nervously, Green gulps. "... I-I'll tell you! I'm the most powerful trainer in the world!" 

Their eyes have long since locked. Red looks prepared. There is only one thing left to do. 

Green challenges Red! This is what the Champion is meant to do! With a practiced wrist, he tosses out Pidgeot. He knows what his strategy will be. What Pokemon will Red send out first? Red flicks his hand and tosses out a ball. 

... Something's not right. 

Green feels queasy. Red seems to distort before him, his feet sinking into the floor while his body seems half-formed. Finally, the Pokeball opens. Green's heart sinks and his eyes bulge open. He's never seen this Pokemon before. - Is it a Pokemon? He's not quite sure, frankly. What the heck is this? 

It's about ten feet tall, and looks impossibly heavy despite its ethereal nature. It is otherworldly, much more powerful even than Mewtwo. Green has almost completed the Pokedex - he's seen some of the Legendary Pokemon that Red has caught, but they haven't traded yet - and he is sure that no Pokemon like this should exist. Instead of feeling excited to tell his gramps about it, or jealous that Red got to it first... he feels fear. It isn't registered in the Pokedex, and he's not sure where it would go even if it _was_. 

"Missingno," Red says, pointing forward, "Thunder." 

The Pokemon strikes, knocking out Pidgeot in one hit. 

Green sweats. He can judge the approximate strength of a Pokemon - not as well as Red can, Red seems to have a unique innate knack for that - but this Pokemon seems far stronger than any Pokemon should ever be. If a hypothetical maximum level of a Pokemon is 100, then... this one looks like it's well over that. How can this be happening? Its typing seems off, too, come to think of it. Something in his soul tells him that it's a bird, even though it doesn't look like one. There isn't even a "bird" type of Pokemon, anyway! 

One by one, his Pokemon fall. Bubblebeam, Thunder, Tri-Attack, Earthquake... the Pokemon's attacking power is obscene. It seems hurt when his Alakazam uses Psychic, but it's still too strong to fall to a single attack. That's the only move he's able to land before they all fall. 

Green doesn't feel quite like himself. Something sits heavy in his stomach. "No! That can't be!" A sense of déjà vu washes over him like a cold night sweat. "You beat my best!! After all that work to become league champ? My reign is over already? It's not fair!" He slumps to his knees, staring up at the impossible monster before him. "Why? Why did I lose?" _And so heartily, at that!_

\- Something is _very_ wrong. Green looks down at his hands. His body is no longer whole, split in multiple pieces and flipped in odd ways. He tries to move. His body doesn't seem to cooperate with him, sliding off to the wrong side. 

When he raises his eyes, Red tilts his head at him, curious. "Red, I... I never made any mistakes raising my Pokemon... did I?" Green feels like this isn't the first time he's asked this question. He's probably asked it hundreds of times by now. 

Red doesn't wait for Professor Oak this time. Instead, he grasps Green's wrist and pulls him into the Hall of Fame. Green raises an eyebrow (raises three eyebrows) as Red boots up the PC. Green knows what happens. There's supposed to be a slideshow of all of the Champion's winning Pokemon. 

Unworldly cries and jumbled, unreadable text bleed out from the screen and into the air around them. Green panics. It's neither his, nor Red's, Pokemon that appear on the screen. Some of them don't even look like Pokemon at all, like the "Pokemon" that Red just used. The world's foundation is crumbling. Green feels like Red is the only person truly unscathed in all of this. 

And still, even as the records tick on (Hall of Fame No 29... Hall of Fame No 40... Hall of Fame No 72...) Red holds Green's hand. He gives Green a small, reassuring smile. "No," he says simply. Green snaps back into place, the universe correcting itself with a single word. 

Green may never see himself or his Pokemon in the Hall of Fame ever again, but that might be okay as long as he continues holding Red tight.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the English loc weight of Missingno.


End file.
